"Why not? No one deservesit more." He paused. "Unless it's you."
She was silent, staringhelplessly at him.
"Why don't you saysomething?" The violence she had sensed was suddenly unleashed. "Goddammit,don't just stand there. Tell me I'mwrong.Tell me Pickering iswrong."
"What did he say?"
"He said you wereresponsible for ordering the supplies. Is that true?"
"Yes," shewhispered. "It's true."
He looked as if she had struckhim. "Did you mean it when you said the wreck was your fault?"
She flinched. "I meantit."
"Damn you!" He tooka step forward, his hands closing on her throat. "And all to make thingssafe and tidy for your Patrick." His eyes scorched her. "For God'ssake, why didn't youlieto me. I didn't want to believe it. I wouldhave done anything not to believe it." His grasp tightened on her throatwith bruising force. "I don't want to do—"
She struggled desperately toforce air into her starved lungs as his hands tightened even more. She wasgoing to die. Her hands flew to her throat, trying to loosen his grip, staringhelplessly up into his strained face. "Please… " It came out as acroak and she didn't think he heard her. His expression was blind, tortured,twisted.
A shudder racked his body. Hishands loosened, tightened fiercely, then slowly released their grip on herthroat. "Why can't I do it?" he muttered. "You deserve it. Noone could deserve it more than—" He whirled away from her and strode towardIan's bedroom. "If you want to live, stay out of my sight." Sheexpected him to slam the door, but the very restraint with which he closed itwas chilling.
Her shaking hand went to herbruised throat; it was already starting to ache. She had never been closer todeath. Would she have been able to keep her promise and remain silent aboutPatrick's guilt if Ruel hadn't changed his mind at the last minute?
Clever Patrick. Ruel would nothave stopped if his hands had been around Patrick's neck. It could be Patrickhad realized whatever punishment Ruel inflicted on her, he would not take herlife.
And God knows, she alsodeserved punishment, she thought wearily. Her willful blindness was as much toblame as Patrick's wicked self-indulgence. Perhaps she deserved to lose anychance for happiness with Ruel.
She turned and moved slowly,heavily, toward her bedroom.
She must stop loving him, shethought dully. Now he would use that weapon or any other to hurt her. She mustlook on him as the enemy and protect herself. Yes, she must stop loving him.
She didn't expect to sleep butmust have dozed, for she woke in the middle of the night to see Ruel standing afew feet from her bed. She went rigid, scrambling back against the headboard.
"Rather like the deathscene fromOthello,isn't it? With one difference, there's nothinginnocent about you." The light from the oil lamp he carried cast a haloabout him and revealed the bitterness of his smile. "Don't worry, I'm notgoing to kill you. I've gotten past that point now." He paused."Perhaps it's better that I find myself incapable of murdering you. Deathis too final a revenge. Then you'd be out of this vale of tears while Ian praysevery night to follow you."
At that moment she would nothave quarreled with death. Life was too painful. Every word he spoke flayedher.
He sat down on the bed and putthe lamp on the bedside table. "You're trembling." He leisurelyunbuttoned her nightgown. "Are you afraid I'm going to rape you? I could,you know. It doesn't seem to make any difference if I hate you or not. I onlyhave to look at you to turn hard. I'm not sure I'll ever stop wantingyou." He pushed aside the cotton fabric and a warm hand cupped her breast.
She inhaled sharply, herbreasts lifting and falling under his touch. "Please." She moistened herlips. "You don't want to do this."
"But I do." He tookher hand and put it on his arousal. "See?" His thumb moved back andforth across her nipple until it became engorged, pointed, and excruciatinglysensitive. "And you're beginning to want it too. I wouldn't even have torape you. I could take you on this bed. I could drive in and out of you andmake you scream with pleasure."
His eyes were glitteringwildly in the lamplight, a reckless smile curving his lips. His beauty burnedmore brightly than it had that first night she had seen him at Zabrie's. Thevery room seemed to throb with the emotion he emitted.
Dear God, he was right. Shedid want him. She wanted to soothe his torment and her own in the only way leftopen to her. What madness made her not care how tortured and degrading it wouldbe to couple with him? Her body wasn't concerned how he felt about her, it justwanted to assuage the need he was arousing. He might never touch her againafter tonight. Shewantedthis time, this touch.
"But I don't want to giveyou pleasure," he said softly. "Not even to satisfy myself." Hishand left her breast and he jerked her nightgown closed. "So I have tofind another way."
He had probably never meant totake her. It had just been a way to make her acknowledge her own weakness andhis power over her. She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat."You have to know how deeply I regret what happened to Ian."
"That's not good enough.I want you to hurt as much as Ian is hurting." His voice suddenly explodedwith harshness. "I'm not going to let you walk away free, Jane."
"I didn't expect youto."
He laughed mirthlessly."The hell you didn't. You thought if you threw open your home to Ian andsmiled sweetly at me, that would be enough compensation. Oh no, I'm going tomake sure you feel just as much a prisoner as Ian is going to be. I can't bethere at Glenclaren with him, but you will. You'll tend to his needs and listento his cries in the night and know it's your fault he's suffering."
Her eyes widened. "You wantme to go with him to Glenclaren?"
